Karl Knausgaard - Dancing in the Dark

I still hadn’t done a break duty.

I turned to the others.

‘Who’s on playground duty?’ I said.

‘A wild guess — you,’ Sture said, leaning against the door frame with one hand pointing in my direction.

I went over to the list on the wall. And yes, it was me.

‘Shit, I’d forgotten all about it,’ I said and went into the corridor, grabbed my jacket and put it on as I hurried out.

From the wet-weather shelter a small, plump figure came towards me. This was a boy called Jo. I pretended I hadn’t seen him and made for the other side of the playground, where a whole crowd of kids rushed one way, then the other in front of a goal with a heavy grey ball in their midst.

They saw me and stopped the game.

‘Do you want to join in?’ they said.

‘Could do,’ I said. ‘For a little while anyway.’

‘It’s you against the rest then!’

‘OK,’ I said.

They gave the ball to the goalkeeper, who kicked it into the melee. There were lots of boys, but their legs were short, so it was relatively easy to get the ball and keep it. Occasionally I knocked some of them flying, they shouted for a free kick, I shouted they were little weeds, and they got stuck in again and chased after me. A couple of times I let them have the ball, just to keep them motivated, but in the end I ran towards the goal and shot the ball past the keeper and shouted I had won and the game was over. No, don’t go, they shouted, we’re going to smash you! Some of the smallest boys grabbed my trousers. I freed myself and had to run a few steps to get away. They were soon engrossed in the game again and I started to walk over to see to the pupils on the other side.

Jo was standing on his own by the wall with his hat tugged down over his forehead.

‘Don’t you want to play football with the others?’ I said as I passed.

He came after me and I had to stop.

‘I don’t like football,’ he whimpered.

‘Just try!’ I said.

‘No,’ he said. ‘Can I come with you instead?’

‘Me?’ I said. ‘I’m just walking around.’

He took my hand and looked up at me with a smile.

‘OK,’ I said. ‘If you want.’

Didn’t he understand how this would look to his classmates, walking around hand in hand with the teacher?

Obviously not.

With the chubby little boy in tow I went towards the other part of the playground, where the pupils in my class had now been joined by the eighth and ninth years.

‘Yesterday I finished my homework and tried the next bit,’ he said, looking up at me again.

‘Really?’ I said. ‘That’s very good. Did you understand any of it?’

‘I think so,’ he said. ‘Some of it anyway.’

‘But if you don’t like football, what do you like?’

‘Drawing,’ he said. ‘I love that.’

‘No outdoor hobbies?’

‘I quite like cycling. With Endre.’

‘Is he your best friend?’

‘Off and on.’

I looked down at him. His face was completely expressionless.

So the poor boy had no friends.

His eyes met mine and his face softened into a smile. I rested my hand on his shoulder and crouched down in front of him.

‘What about if we go and play football?’ I said. ‘You and I can be in the same team.’

‘But I can’t play football,’ he said.

‘Get away with you,’ I said. ‘Of course you can. All you have to do is run around and kick the ball! I’ll help you. Come on, we’ll have to hurry if we’re going to get a game. The bell will go soon.’

‘OK,’ he said, and we jogged over to the goal.

I stopped in front of the boys and raised my arm.

‘I’m back,’ I said. ‘Jo’s in my team. So it’s Jo and I against the rest of you. OK?’

‘But Jo’s so bad!’ Reidar shouted.

‘You’re all bad,’ I said. ‘Come on then!’

He really was bad! If I passed the ball to him he could barely kick it. But he was trotting around now with a smile on his face, and then fortunately the bell rang a couple of minutes later.

‘You take the ball, Jo, and put it in the staffroom. OK?’

‘Yes!’ he said and headed off with the ball under his arm. I quickly followed, hoping to catch a brief glimpse of Liv, the girl in the ninth, before she went in.

And I did. She was walking beside Camilla as I arrived, and she sent me a stolen glance as she turned into the corridor. I eyed her slim firm backside, formed to perfection, and a kind of abyss opened inside me.

After the last lesson I remained in the staffroom waiting for the others to go home, partly because I longed to be alone but in a different way from how I was in my flat, and partly because I wanted to use the phone.

Eventually only Richard’s car was left in the car park. He was in his office but could come into the staffroom at any moment, so I sat leafing through an encyclopedia as I waited for him to pack up and go home.

In the last few hours the clouds had slowly darkened, and while I was sitting there the first raindrops began to pitter-patter on the windowpanes. I turned and watched them hitting the tarmac at first without leaving a mark, as though it wasn’t really happening, then a few seconds later the dark wetness spread as the heavens opened. It poured down, stripes of rain cut through the air and with such force that I could see the raindrops bouncing off the tarmac. The water gushed out of the drainpipes from the gutters and down the hill along the side of the building opposite. A hard drumming sound came from the windows and the roof above me.

‘Now that’s what I call a storm!’ Richard said from the door with a smile. He was wearing his green anorak and had a knife on his belt.

‘It’s no passing shower,’ I said.

‘Are you doing some overtime?’ he said, coming in.

‘Well,’ I said. ‘I was planning to at any rate.’

‘How has your first week been?’

‘It’s gone well, I think,’ I said.

He nodded.

‘Next Friday you can talk to Sigrid. The mentor, you know. Wouldn’t be a bad idea to write down all the questions and thoughts you have before you meet her. So you can make the best use of the opportunity.’

‘OK, I’ll do that,’ I said.

He chewed his lower lip and he looked like a goat again.

‘OK then,’ he said. ‘Have a good weekend!’

‘You too,’ I said.

Half a minute later he appeared outside running towards his car with his briefcase over his head.

Keys out, door open, in.

The car lights came on, shivers ran down my spine. The rear lights shone red against the wet black tarmac and the headlamps cast two shafts of yellow light against the wall, which seemed to diffuse them as it was lit up.

The pattering rain, the broad Vs of water running down the hill, the overflowing gutters.

Oh, this was the world and I was living in the midst of it.

What should I do? I felt like hammering my fists on the windows, running round the room and yelling, tossing tables and chairs aside, I was full to the brim with energy and life.

‘IT’S THE END OF THE WORLD AS WE KNOW IT!’ I sang out at the top of my voice in the staffroom.

‘IT’S THE END OF THE WORLD AS WE KNOW IT!

‘AND I FEEL FINE!

‘AND I FEEL FINE!’

Once Richard’s car was out of sight I went for a walk around the school building to see whether anyone might still be there. The caretaker, for example, could have been pottering about fixing things. But it was deserted and after I had made sure this was the case I went into the little telephone cubicle and dialled mum’s number.

She didn’t answer.

Perhaps she had been working late and had popped into a supermarket on the way home, if she wasn’t eating out, that is.

I rang Yngve. He picked up at once.